


Can't Stop

by Jubalii



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Car Sex, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-10-25 15:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jubalii/pseuds/Jubalii
Summary: TEN WEEK ONE HOUR CHALLENGE - WEEK ONE:Seras is having very vivid dreams; ones that she'd rather not have. But will an awkward mission turn those dreams into a reality?





	Can't Stop

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: 
> 
> Week 1 of the 1-Hour Challenge on the Facebook Group for Destiny's Gateway.   
> The challenge this week was: Your 'Couple' pretend to make out in a car, but it turns into real passion the moment they touch.
> 
> Actually, Des herself had already done an AxS story around this same plot, so it took me some fine-tuning to decide on a plot that used the same plotline, but was still different. Just think of it as a different spin on the tale, Hahaha.

_These feelings have got to stop._

Seras exhaled loudly, her head flopping back against the pillows stacked up against the headboard like a strange twist on The Princess and the Pea. She had been allowed an actual bed now that she drank blood regularly—it was coffin-shaped, per Sir Integra's usual morbid sense of humor, and she still needed her coffin when she traveled to foreign lands, but at home she could recline against a soft mattress and pillows.

All that mattered was that she drank her meals like a good little girl; not that she wouldn't anymore, since Pip grew weak if she did and she couldn't bear to let him suffer for her negligence. Besides, anything tethering her to humanity was lost after the London Blitz. If humans could turn themselves into vampires for the sake of killing, or sacrifice themselves in the name of a Holy war, she didn't want to be a human ever again. She still had her personality and her morals, so she hadn't turned into a heartless monster after all.

Turning her head barely an inch to the side, she saw the red digits on the alarm clock and sighed. This was the third time that she'd woken in the middle of the day after a very realistic dream. The waking in itself wasn't an issue; she had gotten to the point that she could wake or sleep on a dime, thanks to decades of reconnaissance and sleeping in cramped quarters while being stranded on missions. It was the nature of the dream that—if she was frank—frightened her. It spoke of things she'd rather not think about on a day-to-day basis.

But still…she shivered in disgusted delight as she remembered the emotions running rampant in the dream. It had been a (she hated to admit it) very lust-fueled sexual encounter. Even _that_ wasn't that bad, if she thought about it; after all, she was a very healthy, albeit undead woman and she had certain impulses. She wasn't ashamed of the pile of romance novels she'd collected over the years and relished from time to time, nor did she think twice about getting herself off after a particularly taxing day. It was a simple, quick stress reliever and perfectly normal for anyone.

Besides, when you lived in a house full of loud men who could turn any sentence into a sexual joke, it wasn't too long before your own filter was corrupted and any sense of virginal modesty was quickly overrun by a very raunchy sense of humor. Even the boss herself wasn't above making a barely-disguised innuendo now and again, and the two women shamelessly swapped downright filthy books as fast as they could read them.

But the dream… the man… she grimaced at the darkened ceiling. For the past few weeks, she'd been having this sexualized dream about herself and—dare she even _think_ it?—Alucard. The least romantic man in the country; no, in the world! He was cold, cruel, violent, and almost snobbish in his social life, preferring only the company of his master, and sometimes Seras, if he was in a benevolent mood. Not to mention that he seemed to have the sexual appetite of a boulder, considering the fact that she'd never seen a woman entering or leaving the house.

She'd never really thought of him in _that_ sort of light before. He'd become a sort of mentorly figure to her when he turned her into a vampire; their encounters, while plenteous, were little more than lessons about vampiric powers. Every once in a while he dropped in and forced a bag or two of blood down her throat, but even after a full year she hadn't known anything about him personally.

She saw him even less now, since he'd returned to them after three decades of absence. That was four years ago, and in that time she could count the times they had a conversation longer than ten minutes on one hand. He never taught her anymore; he really didn't need to, seeing as she figured 90% of it out on her own while he was gone. He still never divulged any information to her willingly about himself, either. What little she knew, she'd either found out from Sir Integra or garnered from guesswork and research. And two years ago she'd finally gave in to drink his blood and gain her freedom, which only separated them further.

Most of the time, they just ignored each other in a non-confrontational sort of way; neither of them were one to waste words with pleasantries. There weren't many targets powerful enough that Sir Integra had to send both of them in, so the missions they shared were few and far between. They sometimes went weeks without even speaking more than three words to one another. Every once in a while he'd get a whim to spend time with her—she could never figure out if Sir Integra made him leave, or if he just remembered out of the blue that his former Childe lived down the hall and wanted to make a social call. But even then, he just said in near silence while she read aloud from a book or watched a movie.

To see him in her dreams like that shamed her. She'd had sex dreams about coworkers before, and even a very awkward one involving the ghostly Captain. But they'd never occurred more than once, and she'd never felt so deeply about them. Perhaps it was because the sheer realness of the dream; every time she woke up thinking he'd still be next to her, it was so vivid in proportion to her usual fare. She could feel every hair that brushed against her, his warm breath on her skin, the way his muscles flexed over hers… in her dreams, he was dark and handsome in a way she never really considered before. He was his usual callous, mocking self, but there was a strangely possessive passion behind his words and his actions that sent her spine tingling. She was never allowed a climax, though; she always woke up in a fit of frustration, and she refused to finish herself off to the memory of a dream she shouldn't even be having.

Sighing again, she ran her hands over her forehead, tangling her fingers in her bangs as she groaned in exasperation. Why on earth did this happen to her!? He'd never look at her in _that_ way, and it only made things incredibly awkward on the rare occasions that they were in the same room together. She was pretty sure that he forgot her existence most of the time, anyway! It's not like he'd bust down the door to her room and pledge his undying affection for her before throwing her back onto the bed. She laughed aloud at the thought of him professing undying love for _anyone_ , much less her. How absurd!

_Maybe_ … She turned over, burying her face in her pillow. Maybe it was because she _didn't_ have an outlet for these emotions that the dreams occurred. She didn't have a boyfriend, and hadn't had one since high school. On top of that, she was still a virgin. All the men in the Organization thought of her as a sister, or as a close friend. Someone to tease and joke around with, and someone to complain to about theirgirlfriends and wives. _Not_ potential lover-material.

Flipping back over restlessly, she considered the fact that it wouldn't have mattered anyway. A human boyfriend wouldn't have set well with Sir Integra, and if Alucard had ever gotten wind of it, she was sure he'd come for an impromptu visit as well as a lecture on how she wasn't a human and shouldn't be keeping such juvenile tendencies as dating. Only he'd be more specific about courtship and then she'd spend the rest of her life imagining him on one knee beneath a balcony, strumming a guitar as he courted some shadowy lady-love.

Plus, when she thought about her dreams, she realized that it still wouldn't have worked. In all her Alucard-dreams, she'd had the strangest urge to bite his neck as hard as she could. It was almost maddening, the thought of his blood running over her tongue and down her throat as he—she shook her head quickly, forcing the thoughts away as her fangs ached from the thought of the blood. She had to _stop_ thinking those sorts of thoughts! But, in any case, a human lover couldn't have handled being bitten all the time. Eventually, there'd be an accident and she'd have her first Ghoul on her hands.

_Ring! Ring!_ The phone on her bedside table startled her and she jumped in the bed, staring incredulously at the blinking light from the phone's dash. Who was calling her so early in the day? She picked it up, clearing her throat to get the hoarse tone of sleep out of her voice before saying hello.

"Come to my office, Seras. I'm sorry for waking you so early in the day, but I'm afraid we have a bit of an emergency on our hands."

* * *

Seras stared out of the car window at the falling twilight, trying her best to ignore the business-suit clad vampire next to her. She thought about noting the fact that he was driving like an old granny, but she didn't even want to look at him right now. Instead, she cursed God and her lucky stars that she was even in the car with him, headed to this remote spot in the middle of the countryside.

The dossier containing the information for their mission sat on her lap, and she put in the glovebox just to have something to do. She'd already memorized the scant amount of information inside, anyway. Apparently some teenager piece of vampire scum got off on biting people in a popular, yet secluded, make-out spot just south of London. This place was a haven for horny coworkers and illicit affairs, and it was known around as one of those spots that people acknowledged and denied existence of simultaneously.

So, for some god-be-damned reason of her boss's, she and Alucard were to go to this spot dressed as coworkers and pretend to be all over each other in some perverted form of live bait. She'd argued her points logically and thoroughly, but in the end Sir Integra simply got angry and ordered her to go and just get it over with.

"You don't even really have to kiss!" she'd shouted with a spark of her usual vigor. "Just entertain yourselves with being really good actors and then shoot the brat's pimply face off when he comes around. I even made _him_ brush his teeth for the occasion, so you have no more reasons to whine about this, Agent Victoria!"

It wouldn't do to explain that she couldn't even pretend to kiss him, because she'd spent the last dozen nights dreaming about him doing a lot more than that to her. Even now, peering at him out of the corner of her eye while she pretended to be interested in the view, she felt a thrill at the sight of his profile. He really _was_ handsome, in his own creepy way. And while the thought of him sinking his teeth into her used to bother her, now the mental image nearly made her moan.

_Stop it, Seras!_ She berated herself, forcing her eyes back onto the landscape. _He will_ _ **never**_ _do that to you, and even if he did, it would only be for one night. Are you_ _ **proud**_ _of hoping that you'll be some ancient warlord's one night fling?_ She knew that she was right, and yet…. _Oh God. I'm getting obsessed. I've got to stop this!_ Her heart leapt in panic, and if it could still beat it would be a thundering tattoo against her ribs. Thinking again, she was grateful that it was silent; otherwise, Alucard would hear it trying to beat its way out of her chest.

All too quickly, they were there. Looking around, she realized it was little more than a copse of trees that hid the dirt circle from the main road. Once, it was probably a campground, the type that saw nuclear families with smiling faces. The type that would be on the front of a postcard. But now it was the site of three other cars besides their nondescript vehicle, one of which was already rocking as the couple inside crawled into the backseat. She swallowed hard, looking away from the sight and instead stared at the pencil skirt she'd been forced into as part of her 'coworker' outfit.

"What's the matter, Police Girl? Don't tell me you're _frightened,_ of all things." Her heart jumped again; not at the words, but at the name. How many years had it been since she'd been called Police Girl? Integra didn't use the term, and the original troop of soldiers and servants had either died in battle or simply retired from duty. Alucard and Integra were the only two around who even still remembered the moniker, she realized with a start. She looked at him, only to see him staring expectantly at her with that strange, cryptic smile he seemed to save just for her. Her stomach twisted and she looked away quickly.

"No, I'm not," she answered honestly. She'd forgotten how to be afraid of him years ago. Maybe if they spoke more, she could remember. But she'd long stopped watching him battle opponents when they went together on missions; the sight of him streaking through waves of blood sent a strange sort of yearning in her chest that she couldn't understand. "But I still think this is utterly ridiculous. Why can't we just sit in the bushes and wait?"

"That's not quite as fun?" he answered with his own question, and she heard the fabric of his suit shift. "Or maybe my master has some ulterior motive of her own. Humans… I'll never understand their thought processes." He looked at the rocking car with a sort of curious interest. "Nor will I understand why they feel the need to be unfaithful to their mates."

"Spouses," she corrected quietly, watching a very handsome young ginger undress a giggling blonde in the car across the way with a sense of bitterness. Why couldn't she have something like that? Why was the universe against her? "Animals have mates. Humans have spouses." She wasn't looking, but she felt that he was following her gaze to the ginger as well. "And I don't know why, either."

"Vampires have mates as well," he amended her sentence, but his voice seemed more thoughtful. "But as a practice they shy away from infidelity."

"You don't," she answered, immediately wincing and regretting it. It sounded accusatory and prying, but it was too late now. He made no immediate comeback, but when he spoke it was with the same musing tone he'd had before, as if he were considering the thought.

"I don't," he agreed. "But neither do you."

"I don't have time to date," she said quickly.

"Court." She looked at him with a frown.

"Court's what you play basketball on." His brows rose, nose wrinkling.

"I don't follow." She felt her eyes widen; had he never heard of basketball? How could you not?!

"Basketball?" she repeated in disbelief. "The sport? Played on a _basketball_ _court_?" she mimed throwing a ball into an invisible net. His puzzled expression didn't change and she shook her head. "Forget it." She turned back to see ginger had blonde bent over the steering wheel now, and there wasn't any more of his visible other than the tips of his gelled bangs. She felt a warm hand on her thigh and jumped despite herself; it had been a long time since she'd felt something other than the fever-heat of human skin. Even with the gloves, his hand felt… normal. "What are you doing?"

"Completing my mission," he answered cooly, leaning across the middle console in order to run his hand farther up her leg, pulling the side of her skirt up with it. She tugged it back down self-consciously and graced him with a warning glare. He smiled mockingly in return, and a small part of her rejoiced at seeing the familiar smirk. Tonight was a nostalgic sort of night, it seemed. She slung her arm casually over his shoulder, making it look as if she'd done so scores of times before as she dragged him closer.

"Lift up a second," she ordered. "You can pull the console up so that it doesn't dig into your hips." He moved it and she immediately regretted telling him; now his entire body was halfway on hers, boxing her against the window as he continued to grin at her. "Well?" she snapped when he continued to do nothing but stare at her.

"I believe the adage is 'ladies first'?" She rolled her eyes, huffing in annoyance. Why did he have to be so damn smug all the time? She liked it better in her dreams, when he didn't talk much and what little he did say wasn't so jeering. Putting her free hand on his other shoulder, she peeled off the business suit with a forced smile of her own and unbuttoned the first three buttons of his white shirt, freeing his neck.

She faltered, seeing the edge of his collarbone with the beginnings of chest hair beneath and the pale neck above, veins visible beneath his skin. The sight wasn't something she should ever see outside of fantasies, but here it was for her to look at and touch. No, no—she couldn't touch, or even look too long. This was entirely professional acting, something she was only doing because she didn't want to start near his thin, perfect lips— _augh, stop it!_

She pressed her closed lips firmly against the skin above his pulse, wondering briefly what he might do if she just took the plunge and bit down into his neck. The desire to do so was there in the back of her mind, beating like a wild bird trapped in a cage, but she didn't dare. She moved her lips, still closed, up underneath his ear and pulled him closer, trying to make it look like she doing her damndest to leave a mark.

Still, the warm, earthy smell of his skin was so tempting that before she thought about it, she'd wrapped both arms around him and licked the soft skin underneath his jaw. She froze the minute it happened, her eyes open wide as she realized what she'd just done. She hadn't meant to, but the need to know what he tasted like was so strong that she hadn't thought twice about taking a quick lick!

"Police Girl!" he exclaimed softly in her ear, the deep tone sending a shiver down her spine. "You're really taking this mission seriously, aren't you?" he asked teasingly, untangling himself from her arms. She felt her face burn as she looked up apologetically, but to her surprise she saw something flicker in the crimson depths of his eyes. Before she could look closer, he blinked and it was gone, the usual dark laughter lighting the orbs instead.

"Of-of course I am!" she replied, trying to play off the whole thing. "I mean, have you ever known me to half-ass anything?" He laughed out loud at that, shaking his head.

"No, I don't suppose I have." He tilted his head to look at her considering. "But I suppose… tit for tat, as they say." She had no further warning before he was on her. Either he didn't understand the concept of playing pretend, or he was just trying to fuck with her as he left hot open-mouthed kisses along her neck, tongue darting out to lick the exact same spot on her jaw before going back down to her collarbone and around to the other side.

She stayed frozen, unable to even comprehend what sort of turn the mission had taken as her eyes fluttered closed. _Oh, no…._ she thought absently as her hands crept around his shoulders again. She knew in some far-away part of her mind that she shouldn't be allowing him to do this to her, and that it wasn't going to help her unhealthy dreams any, but she couldn't seem to make herself stop him, either. Then, his fangs scraped along her throat and she moaned, immediately clapping a hand over her mouth afterwards as her face turned even redder in mortification.

"Did you like that?" he whispered darkly in her ear; this time there was no mistaking the husky edge his voice had taken. "Shall I do it again?" She shook her head quickly, desperate to stop this before it went any further. "No? But why?" he asked in mock-surprise, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke. _It's wrong! I'm already going to be dreaming of this moment for weeks now; don't give my brain any more ideas!_ She tried to voice her thoughts, but all the came out was a strangled sort of squeak.

"My master is worried about you," he said suddenly, backing away far enough to look her in the eyes. "She believes that you're unhappy and, heaven forbid, _lonely_." He said the last word with a scornful laugh. "Tell me, why don't you choose one of those little men you parade around with as a lover, Seras Victoria?" His voice trailed across her name with a serpent's hiss. His whole demeanor had changed, muscles tightening as his hold on her waist became brutally punishing.

"I—It's—I can't—" She wasn't sure how to phrase it without being humiliated, but he caught on as her gaze flitted unthinkingly to his neck. Almost immediately he relaxed, hand rubbing where he'd probably bruised her with a rewardingly tender touch.

"I see," he drawled, looking at her with a satisfied expression. "You don't want to be bitten… you want someone _to_ bite." He grinned, the edges of his fangs showing. "Tell me," he murmured, leaning close enough that their noses brushed, "would you like to bite _me_ , my dear?"

"No!" she squealed, pushing him back. He went back easily enough, not bothering to fight her. "How could you even think that?" Even as she said it, she knew that her pink cheeks and guilty eyes gave her away. To her shock he didn't tease her mercilessly like she thought he would. Instead, he pulled her hands away from his chest like it was nothing and threw them back over his neck, leaning in until he was uncomfortably close once more.

"Bite me," he commanded, but she closed her lips tightly. She didn't have to listen to him anymore if she didn't want to; she was more than his meager little servant. "I want you to," he admitted, leaning to whisper in her ear again. "I've wanted you to for a long time," he admitted with a purr. She gulped, unable to believe what she heard.

"Stop teasing me," she protested weakly, trying to ignore him. Surely he was just being a vindictive jerk like always; she wasn't even sure what she'd done to deserve it this time. Was he angry because she thought of him in that sort of way? "What about the mission? Just keep on pretending and we'll be fine," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"But I don't _want_ to pretend anymore," he argued, his leg trying to worm its way between her thighs as his arms pulled her closer. "I've been waiting four years for you to come around and admit that you wanted me." He paused, considering. "Four longest years of my existence. I'm not used to waiting for others."

"W-what are you talking about?" she sputtered, trying to push him away again. This time, he didn't budge.

"How could I not want you, now that you're so..." he trailed off, burying his face in her neck and breathing deeply. " _alluring_ ," he finished on a growl. "Every time I see you in battle I just want to throw you against the nearest wall and ravish you to within an inch of your life." He sounded like he meant it literally; it shouldn't have aroused her, but it did.

"Stop it," she muttered, as thoroughly embarrassed as she was turned on. He was either making stuff up, or he just hid his lust exceedingly well. Somehow, she was sure it was the latter.

"I want to lick the blood off your skin as I take you." He licked her bared skin for emphasis.

" _Stop it_."

"I want to hear you _screaming_ in pleasure."

"Stop it!"

"In fact, when we get home I'm taking you straight to my chambers so that it'll echo through the entire cellar—"

"I said _stop it_!" she snarled, before sinking her fangs deeply into his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> Afterword:
> 
> I'd have loved to write more, but the hour stops here. It was actually really fun to limit myself to a single hour. I didn't get to write near as much as I usually would have, but it's cool to know that I can get a coherent oneshot out in sixty minutes if I put my mind to it!
> 
> Also, I guess they'll catch the target. If they remember. (shrug)


End file.
